CHAPTER 8

As the people of Gold Territory went about their daily routines, they couldn't help but notice the strange structures that had been erected along the roads. Tall poles stood at even distances, each topped with a round glass-like object. At first, the townsfolk had been confused. Some thought it was another decree from the lord, while others speculated that it might be some kind of new defense system.

Curiosity had taken hold of many, especially the children, who often ran past the workers installing these objects, asking endless questions. "What is that?" "Is it a new kind of spell?" "Is it for decoration?" But the workers simply replied, "It is Lord Lor's order," and continued their work.

The people eventually stopped questioning it. After all, who were they to question the lord's will? However, on this particular evening, something unusual was happening. Unlike before, mages had joined the workers, stretching long strings from pole to pole. The children, always fascinated by magic, gathered to watch, their eyes gleaming with wonder.

"What are they doing?" A boy tugged at his mother's sleeve as they walked past.

"I don't know," she admitted, glancing at the mages weaving the strings. "It doesn't look like a spell. Maybe they are preparing for something."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, people began returning to their homes, pulling out torches to light their way. The streets grew dim, just as they always had, the flickering flames of torches barely holding back the creeping darkness.

Then it happened.

The round objects atop the poles flickered. A strange, pale light sparked to life, danced for a moment, then disappeared. A murmur rippled through the streets as people turned to watch. Again, the lights flickered—on and off, like stars trying to break through a stormy night.

And then—

The entire street was bathed in brilliant light.

A hushed silence fell over the people. The road that had once been swallowed by darkness now gleamed like midday. The poles, which had stood quietly for weeks, had suddenly become beacons, casting a warm glow in every direction.

Gasps of astonishment filled the streets.

"What magic is this?" an elderly woman whispered, clutching her shawl.

"I-I can see everything!" a child shouted excitedly, pointing at the street, which was now as clear as day.

A merchant who had been about to light his torch stared in disbelief. "How is this possible? Not even fire produces such steady light!"

The wealthier citizens, those who had seen many magical artifacts in their lives, were equally baffled. "There is no flame," one noble murmured. "No need for mana. But the light is everywhere. Could this be some hidden artifact of the past?"

A scholar, who had spent his life studying ancient magical devices, frowned in deep thought. "I have seen magical lanterns before, but they require constant mana to maintain their glow. There is no mage fueling this."

A group of guards, patrolling the streets, exchanged glances. "This will change everything," one of them muttered. "We can see clearly now. No more hiding in the shadows, no more criminals lurking in the dark."

The excitement spread like wildfire. People rushed outside their homes, pointing at the glowing poles, whispering theories, and marveling at the sight. The elderly sat on their porches, shaking their heads at the marvel of it all. The children, who had only ever known torches and lanterns, laughed and danced in the illuminated streets, their faces glowing under the artificial starlight.

Here's a detailed expansion of the scene with Harry, Lor, and the forgers standing at the mountaintop, witnessing the historic moment as their wind-powered electricity lights up the entire Gold Territory.

The mountain air was crisp, carrying the distant scent of iron and smoke from the forges below. Atop the rocky cliff, Harry stood beside Lord Lor, their cloaks billowing in the cold wind. Behind them, the massive windmills—towering structures of steel and enchanted wood—rotated steadily, their blades slicing through the air.

The rhythmic creaking of the windmills and the low hum of the generators filled the night. The factory, newly constructed near the base of the mountain, emitted a faint mechanical whir as it controlled and stored the electricity they had worked so hard to create. Workers moved like shadows inside, monitoring the new systems that had never before existed in this world.

The gathered forgers, once skeptical of Harry's vision, now stood in silent awe. These were men who had spent their entire lives shaping swords and wands—artisans of war and magic—yet tonight, they witnessed a miracle not crafted from flame or spell, but from knowledge and ingenuity.

From their vantage point, they had the perfect view of the entire Gold Territory.

And at that very moment, it happened.

Across the vast expanse of land, the newly installed poles flickered to life, their round glass tops emitting a soft, white glow. The darkness that had once consumed the roads, alleys, and homes of the people was banished in an instant. Like countless stars descending from the sky, the lights spread across the entire territory, illuminating everything in their path.

The reaction was immediate.

Even from the mountaintop, they could hear the distant sound of astonished voices rising from the towns below. People poured into the streets, pointing at the lights in disbelief. Some fell to their knees, murmuring prayers, convinced that they were witnessing divine intervention.

One of the older forgers, a man with arms thick as tree trunks, whispered, "This… this is not magic, yet it shines brighter than any spell."

Another forger, his hands still marked with soot from years of forging swords, shook his head. "We spent centuries refining our craft, making weapons that channel mana, but today… we have forged something far greater."

Lord Lor remained quiet for a long time, his gaze locked onto the glowing city below. His sharp eyes traced the long rows of lights, the way they stretched across the roads like veins of pure energy. The windmills behind him turned with steady determination, supplying the power to keep the world below illuminated.

Finally, he spoke. "Harry," he said, his voice low but firm. "Do you understand what you have done?"

Harry, his young face calm yet filled with unshaken determination, nodded. "Yes, Father. Things are just getting started,These is the first step toward a new ERA."

Lor let out a deep breath. "The world will change because of this. You have not just brought light to the darkness—you have given power to those who never dreamed of it." He turned to look at his son, pride clear in his eyes. "Goldenova… will become more than just a name. It will be the first to bring the light in the darkness."

The mages who had once doubted him now exchanged glances. Some of them still struggled to comprehend how such power could be harnessed without the use of mana. One of them, a young woman with silver robes, stepped forward hesitantly.

"This… this means that even those without magic can now wield power." Her voice was laced with both awe and unease. "Do you think the nobles and the great magic families will allow this, Lord Lor?"

Lor chuckled, his deep voice carrying in the wind. "Let them come. Let them try to stop it. The Gold Family has always been at the forefront of progress, and we will not bow to fear."

Harry, however, did not share his father's amusement. He knew that what they had created would not just bring light—it would bring resistance. The world was ruled by those with magic, and now, for the first time, ordinary people had access to something just as powerful.

"Father," he said, "we need to be prepared. If they see this as a threat, they won't hesitate to act."

Lor's expression grew serious. He looked at his son for a long moment, then nodded. "We will be ready, we have the king's support."

The forgers, the mages, the workers—all those who had helped bring this moment to life—stood there, watching as their creation spread its brilliance across the land.

And behind them, the great windmills continued to turn, whispering in the night like titans watching over a world on the cusp of change.

Goldenova had been born.

We have to much works to do dad .

That can be done later, but first for a success we have a celebration take the barrels out.

but harry you can't drink you are still little.

harry signed, his father just needs a reason to drink. well they were working everyday stoping when they needed to eat only .